


Princess

by mariamuses



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Fluff, illyrian camp, nessian daughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-26 01:25:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14391279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariamuses/pseuds/mariamuses
Summary: Cassian is checking on an illyrian camp when her baby girl appears.





	Princess

“I, Lord Ivar of the illyrian mountain camp, challenge you, Commander of the Night Court’s armies, Cassian, to a duel. If I win, this camp shall not answer to your command anymore, but be free of all ties with the Night Court. We will also own the land and live here until another challenge is issued by a different High Lord of the Night Court.”

Cassian looked unbelievably to the camp lord, and when he had determined that he was in fact serious and not joking, he brought his hand to his face and released a heavy groan.

“Nooooo! Are you serious? I’ve already done the inspection of the camp, trained with the males, trained with the females, dropped by the canteen to see if you were feeding people enough…”, listed Cassian, ticking items with his fingers. “The only thing left you had to do was renew your oath to the Crown. But no, you had to go and make it difficult.”

He sighed and continued: “Are you sure, one hundred percent sure, that you want to challenge me?”

Lord Ivar puffed his chest, trying to make his frame bigger like every other male does when a fight is about to break loose.

“I am.”

“I accept the challenge , on one condition: that it will not be to the death”, inquired Cassian.

Snorts ran around the circle that had formed to watch the issuing of the challenge.

“Oh, is the little ‘Lord of Bloodshed’ scared of a little blood?”, Ivar mocked him.

“No, I’m not. I just don’t wanna kill you, enough blood was spilled during the war”, explained Cassian. “So this will be a fight until the other gives up or is rendered unconscious. No more. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Commander”, sneered the camp lord. “Shall we begin?”

“Of course”, agreed Cassian.

Another illyrian clad in leathers, whose name was unknown to Cassian, stepped out of the circle and stood between both males, stretching his arms to the front, as if forming a barrier to keep them apart, and proclaimed.

“As is traditional in illyrian fight, no one will be allowed to step in this circle to help the fighters and no dirty fighting. We are illyrians, and we have illyrian honor.”

He gave a pointed look to both of the illyrians, and spoke again.

“And the fight starts… NOW!”

Ivar surged forward, opening his arms to tackle Cassian to the ground, but he had already moved and currently stood at Ivar’s back.

With deadly precision, the commander hit the camp lord’s back with the inner edge of his hand, knocking him to the ground.

Ivar hit the ground with a loud thud, but rolled on his side to get away from Cassian, and stood up again facing him.

“Do you give up?” asked Cassian, with a bored look on his eyes indicating what he thought of all this pantomime.

“HA! Give up just because you made me roll a little?”, laughed Ivar as he started circling Cassian.

The commander sighed, desperation beginning to show in his eyes.

“No. Give up because even though you came at me the very second the fight started, and without me being in a fighting stance, I still managed to get behind you and hit you hard enough for you to taste the floor. I’m not saying it again, if you don’t surrender now, you won’t be able to walk back to your cabin today”, patiently explained Cassian, as if he was dealing with an annoying kid.

“Never”, snarled again Ivar and launched for Cassian for the second time.

Once more, Cassian one-upped him and right as Ivar’s fist was going to collide with his jaw, he grabbed his forearm, spinned and kept him in a choking hold.

Ivar struggled against his grip, trying to catch his breath, but Cassian had pinned him in a way that there was nothing to do but to choke.

After ten seconds, the camp lord went limp, and Cassian dumped his body unceremoniously to the floor.

The referee grabbed his right hand and lifted it to the air, proclaiming him victorious.

Then, Cassian begun his speech.

“And this is why —”

“DADDY!”, a shrilling voice screamed.

Cassian turned to the direction the sound was coming from, just in time to open his arms to receive a little girl. She had long dark hair pulled back in two boxer braids, clad in tiny illyrian leathers, with a knife sheathed at her hip. Her eyes were a mixture of amber and green, shifting as the light hit them, and at her back you could see a pair of illyrian wings, matching the size of the kid.

His eyes softened at the sight of her daughter, the pride of his existence.

“Hey princess! What are you doing here, Alyssa?”, he asked, picking her up from the floor and setting her on his hip so her legs dangled to the sides.

“Mommy brought me! What are you doing here? And why is that man lying on the floor and not moving?”, she inquired back. Then, realization dawned on her and her eyes widened in shock. “Is he dead? Daddy, is he dead?”

Cassian realized it was too late to feign ignorance or not having seen him before so he carefully explained to her daughter what had happened while his mate strolled out of a cabin and headed straight for him.

“Lys, do you remember when we used to do tickle fights?”

His daughter nodded, eyes still alert.

“Well, that’s what happened. We had a tickle war, which is harder than a tickle fight, and he’s so tired from laughing that he can’t move”, continued explaining Cassian, pecking his mate on her lips as she got to them.

Alyssa nodded, marking her understandment of the situation, and asked again.

“So you won?”

“Yes, daddy won, and now he’s going to fly you home so we can go get dinner with your uncles, aunts and cousins”, explained Nesta while she walked away from the gathering, arm in arm with her mate and daughter, oblivious to what they left behind.

While the commander and the emissary walked away with their daughter, all the illyrians that had gathered to see the fight were left with their jaws on the floor, wondering how could someone so efficient and vicious, change so much in a matter of seconds his behaviour for a little girl who didn’t reach their knees and could barely fly.

And some even wondered if he had actually been like that all along, but had failed to see the good in him when now it was so obvious.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fluffy mini-fic for @foxboylucien


End file.
